Cheering for Ashland

As a young teen-ager, I had to make a choice. Would I pursue music, with its mandated marching band performances, or would I try out for the cheer-leading squad? I had the enthusiasm to root fiercely for my team, but my coordination was suspect, so I stuck with eight steps for every five yards, as well as the occasional back step-twirl-four of our halftime shows. In hindsight, I’m convinced that marching with a piccolo was definitely easier than performing a Hurdler, a Herkie, or a Toe-Touch with the cheer-leading squad.  

While I never got to have the maroon and white sweater, pom-poms and megaphone, I’ve always admired those who could spur others on by their enthusiasm and encouragement. So let me put on my cheerleader hat for a few moments to do some boosting and boasting for Ashland.

We’ve got quite a bit to cheer for these days, but two events of the last week caught my eye and I believe some rah-rah-sis-boom-bah is in order. My first shout-out is for the Ashland City Schools. It is great to see the new facilities nearing completion here in our community. Education isn’t defined by the shape or size of the classroom, but our kids and teachers deserve safe, functional educational space – and they’re getting it.

Quite a memorable event celebrated the transition from the old auditorium (McDowell) to the new one (Archer). How fitting that McDowell’s swan song was the poignant number from the Sound of Music: “So Long, Farewell.” Indeed, we do “leave and heave a sigh and say good-bye.” You were quite the lady in your prime, and we will definitely miss you, old girl. You’ve done well, giving us much joy over the last eighty-eight years, but now it’s time for the music to ring out in another venue, the Robert M. and Janet L. Archer Auditorium. Congratulations to all of the donors, the architects, construction workers and contractors, and Superintendent Doug Marrah for creating such a marvelous performance space for Ashland. Hip, Hip, Hooray!

Here’s my #2 shout-out. Let’s hear it for our United Way, recently designated the Ohio United Way of the Year. I’m not sure that this award comes with anything more tangible than a plaque for the wall, but what a wonderful honor for our community. The inimitable Ev DeVaul, supported every day by staff and board members, has created a model United Way right here in Ashland County. I’ve been around the social service world for a long time, and I’ve seen a variety of United Way organizations at work, but I’ve never seen anything quite like the United Way of Ashland County.

In trying to explain its success, it seems to me that a healthy spirit of community connection and care is combined with a strong work ethic, and then sprinkled with a generous dose of joy (otherwise known as fun). If you want to see that recipe in action, visit the United Way’s Ring in Spring at the Fairgrounds on May 9^th. There’s barely enough room on the poster to announce all of the activities of the day, with Kiwanis pancakes, a 5K, a petting zoo, and fun activities for all ages. Be sure to stop in and congratulate Ev and his team for a well-deserved recognition – and spend a buck or two in support of United Way.

We’ve all experienced negative comments that cut to the bone, and those words slip all too easily from our lips at times. But I’m glad to shake my pom-poms in affirmation today, not just for the schools and United Way, but for all of us. No matter what challenges we face, we can do right for our kids, we can care for the weakest among us, and we can truly live united. As David Schwartz understands, “Believing there is a solution paves the way to a solution.” It wasn’t easy to pass the levy, nor is it easy to reach deeper into our pockets for additional tax dollars or for United Way contributions. But I’m grateful we live in a community where belief combines with effort to find the right solutions for our future. Way to go, Ashland!

Why Ashland?

In January 2006, the Salvation Army released the list of locations approved for the construction of a Ray and Joan Kroc Corps Community Center. As I opened the e-mail announcement, I wondered if one of these state-of-the-art centers would be built in Cleveland or Akron, or maybe Toledo or Youngstown, big cities with impoverished neighborhoods, just the kind of setting that Joan Kroc’s bequest was meant to serve, or so I thought. When I scanned the list of the winners, I was surprised to see that Ashland, Ohio was selected. A lovely town, yes, but why a Kroc Center in Ashland?

Six months later, that oft-repeated question became mine to answer when my husband Larry and I were given the responsibility to develop the RJKCCC in Ashland, Ohio. If I had a quarter for every time I’ve been asked that question over the last nine years, I could treat the town to Happy Meals – or Coneys and root beer from the A & W. I can’t speak for the hows and whys of the selection process. But in retrospect, I do know why Ashland is the home of a beautiful Kroc Center.

There is a Kroc Center in Ashland because of B.J. Brown. This die-hard Cleveland Browns, Indians and Cavs fan has cerebral palsy, and the old facility was not accessible for wheelchairs. Once B.J. became too heavy for his father to carry up the Salvation Army’s stairs, he could no longer attend programs there. But now, with a perfect record for church attendance and a broad smile even in the face of Cleveland defeats, the light in B.J.’s eyes shines throughout the Kroc Center.     

The Kroc Center also came to Ashland, Ohio for Trudy. With the support of ACCESS, Hospice, and Salvation Army staff, a dying journey that began in the Sacred Space at the RJKCCC brought faith, companionship and reconciliation to the final weeks of Trudy’s life.

And that’s not all. Because of the Kroc Center, Ashland’s children can leave their stifling apartments and stand for hours under the Tumblebuckets in RJ’s Spraypark on a hot and humid day – yes, soon! Women (and sometimes men) of all generations can pull up a chair to the knitting circle, creating community conversation accompanied by the rhythm of clicking needles. Young people can learn the basics of food preparation, gardening, or archery, and even the family dog can develop good manners in Puppy Pre-School. I just finished proof-reading the next program guide (available April 24) – there’s no way anyone can say, “there’s nothing to do in Ashland” this summer.

Has it made a difference? Ashland Times-Gazette editor Ted Daniels had this to say upon the first year anniversary: “In one short year, the Kroc Center has become such an integral part of the community that it's difficult to imagine Ashland without it. Perhaps that is the most fitting testament to its first-year success.”

Mrs. Kroc wanted these centers to level the playing field of opportunity so all children could reach for the stars. Yet so far, none of the children who’ve played soccer at the Kroc Center have advanced to the World Cup. None of its budding instrumentalists have performed at Carnegie Hall. No one from the afterschool program has been accepted at Harvard. Those may have been Joan Kroc’s lofty dreams for her legacy gift, but I’m happy to see young people playing middle school soccer, performing (soon) in Archer Auditorium, and beginning classes at AU. And, beyond specific achievements, I’m thrilled to see the development of character, confidence, and hope in children and adults, for as Christopher Reeve believed, “Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.”

Someone recently asked me why Mrs. Kroc chose Ashland. I explained that the McDonalds heiress died long before the sites for the new centers were chosen. But I believe that if she was able to spend just one day at the Ashland RJKCCC, she would be pleased with the choice. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’d hear her say, “I’m lovin’ it!” As it completes its sixth year of operation, I’m grateful to its donors, guests, staff, and supporters for making Ashland the perfect place for a Kroc Center. 

A Last Lecture

In the fall of 2007, a Last Lecture by Carnegie Mellon professor Randy Pausch went viral. His was a last lecture of necessity, as he was facing a terminal cancer diagnosis. Yet despite those painful circumstances, his talk on achieving childhood dreams was funny, poignant, and memorable, unforgettably illustrated by one-handed push-ups, a birthday cake, and a parade of massive stuffed animals.

In his lecture, he described his meeting with his boyhood idol and leadership guru, Star Trek’s Captain Kirk, and his unfulfilled dream to be an NFL football player. He acknowledged the lessons from football, suggesting that most of what we learn is learned indirectly, or by head-fake. He had also hoped to become an Imagineer at Disney, and told how a sabbatical season at Walt Disney World led to an on-going consulting relationship. The fulfillment of that particular dream was proof that brick walls are in our lives for a reason, for they let us prove how badly we want things. Perhaps my favorite bit of counsel from Pausch was on how we face our circumstances: “In life, you have to decide if you’re Eeyore or Tigger.”

Dr. Pausch didn’t invent the concept of a Last Lecture, for professors have been doing these for years. Before the age of YouTube, however, few had the overwhelming reach that his did – millions of views and still counting. Facing retirement or illness, preachers, political leaders, and philosophers have done the same thing, desiring to share words of wisdom with future generations. 

In that tradition, Ashland’s own Dr. Don Rinehart will give his Last Lecture on April 15^th at 7:30 p.m. He’ll be speaking on the topic: “Last Lecture: The Beginning of Wisdom” in the Miller Chapel at the university, and the community has been welcomed to listen in to his words. Rinehart officially retired from the AU religion department in 2007, but he’s continued in the classroom through this semester. Now, as he concludes his official teaching responsibility, he’s doing so with this final gift for all of Ashland.

I wonder what he’ll choose to say. As a Professor Emeritus of Religion, surely his final words will be informed by his faith, and will reflect in some way on the courses he’s taught in biblical studies, practical ministry and Christian education. Perhaps he’ll tell a story or two about the study abroad program in Germany that he and his wife Jan have led for many years. It’s also likely that he’ll share from his pastor’s heart. Will he sneak in the names of his grandchildren? If I was giving this lecture, the lovely Madelyn Simone would be mentioned for sure.

The concept of final words is ancient. Jacob blessed his twelve sons, as noted in Genesis 49:28, “All these are the twelve tribes of Israel, and this is what their father said to them when he blessed them, giving each the blessing appropriate to him.” Words of farewell spoken by government leaders through the centuries have echoed those of Winston Churchill in 1955: “Never flinch, never weary, never despair.” Even Cinderella’s mother shared her wisdom, at least according to Disney’s newest version of the classic story, when Ella’s mother lovingly told her, “Have courage and be kind.”

Randy Pausch was a young father when he faced his personal challenge of a last lecture. As he concluded, he asked his gathered listeners if they had figured out his final head fake [the lesson from football]. He explained: “This [lecture] was not for you guys. This was for my kids.” As he wrote in his book of the same name, “I was trying to put myself in a bottle that would one day wash up on the beach for my children.”

Pausch’s children were quite young when he died, and so he was concerned with leaving them something of himself through his words. But we don’t have to put ourselves in a bottle to offer meaningful words or effective head fakes. We can model the courage and kindness that sustained Ella in spite of the cinders, Pausch in the face of aggressive cancer. Day by day, our integrity and care for others become our own last lecture, even without words.

To Remember

This Thursday, April 9, marks the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of General Robert E. Lee’s surrender at Appomattox, Virginia, the symbolic end of the Civil War. As happens with many significant dates, people across our country will pause to remember this hopeful ending to a tragic time in our nation’s history. To commemorate that day, the National Park Service has invited churches, temples, schools, city halls, public buildings, historic sites, and others to ring bells across the nation as a gesture to mark the end of the bloody conflict in which more than 750,000 Americans perished. The plan is that bells are to be rung for four minutes, beginning precisely at 3:15 p.m. EDT.

Why should we bother to mark this particular date? The Park Service suggests that communities and individuals will ring their bells for a number of reasons, such as in celebration of freedom of a restored Union, as an expression of mourning for the fallen, or to mark the beginning of reconciliation and reconstruction that began after that great war.

But why do we want to commemorate something like this? After all, the Civil War is ancient history, inglorious history that we shudder to remember. Edmund Burke would tell us that we must remember because, “Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it.” Mark Twain said it a bit differently: “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme.”

One of the challenges of history is that its rhyming power can paralyze us, a PTSD of the nation’s soul. Whether it’s the Civil War, the Viet Nam Conflict, or a terrible battle with our spouse, as we remember the offenses of another against us, we struggle to be able to move forward. Yet as Lewis Smedes reminds us, “Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future.”

As we create a new way of remembering, we can look at what we’ve done, what someone else has done, and determine to move in a different direction. But we can also hold onto the hope of reconciliation, the reminder that the work of re-union can occur, that both a nation and a relationship can be healed. As our country experienced, it can never be the same, but it can move on.

Yet it is not only the horrors of history that we choose to remember. We remember our first kiss, our first puppy, our first home and the birth of our first grandchild. As we sit in a darkened theater, we remember the first movie we went to see [Emil and the Detectives], and as we inhale the scent of baby powder, we are returned in memory to those early days of parenthood, with its immeasurable delight and unimaginable exhaustion.

As we consider the role of memory, we recognize the dual gifts of sorrow and joy, warning and encouragement. Whether in our communal history or in our personal life story, joy and peace never stand alone. They always stand in contrast to the grief of loss and the horrors of conflict. It is a truth we cannot escape.

And so it is with faith. In his Holy Week hymn composed in 1707, Isaac Watts wrote of the sorrow and love that “flow mingled down” at the cross. In our remembering, we repeat the ancient words and rituals that have marked the walk of faith for centuries. We taste the wine and bread, we whisper the well-worn prayers, and we sing of the sacred head now wounded and of the old rugged cross. “Do this in remembrance of me” lives on in our devotion. We were not there but we remember. We do not fully comprehend but we believe.

A century and a half after the Civil War threatened to tear our nation asunder, we will ring a bell on April 9^th and remember. And on this weekend of holy remembering, twenty centuries after a crucifixion took place on a Jerusalem hill, we will stand with our brothers and sisters to proclaim, “I remember.” Alleluia!